


Taken and Kept

by fangirlsupreme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Control, Crazy Dean, Dean literally controls everything, Food Deprivation, It's actually a really fucked up story, Kidnapping, Like he belongs in a mental institution, Like he's insane, M/M, Mental Coercion, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sensory Deprivation, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:29:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlsupreme/pseuds/fangirlsupreme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has watched Castiel for years, waiting for the perfect time to save him and take him away from everyone around him who just pretended to care. Dean deserved to have Castiel, to own him. No one knew Castiel better than Dean. No one loved Castiel like Dean, and Dean would have what he deserved, no matter how he had to get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taken and Kept

**Author's Note:**

> This is an omegle collaboration! The prompt belonged to them. They were Castiel and I was Dean. This story actually took me to a pretty screwed up place. Like, as we went on I was getting more and more scared of what I was writing. SEVERE TRIGGER WARNINGS. Like this is serious shit. Like this is the kind of stuff that you hear about on the news where they find the kids twenty years later and they're all fucked up and shit like that. It's not cool. Here's your warning. Please heed it.
> 
> **I have recently discovered that this lovely person that I wrote with is heaven-wont-take-me-back.tumblr.com so I'm very happy to share that with everyone because this is a fabulous piece of writing.**

Castiel didn't know what happened to him before appearing in this chair, tied up against his will. He remembered the fight with his parents about the letters he gotten from a crazy stalker, he remembered storming out of the house pissed as hell, but not much after that. He opened his eyes widely when the man that kidnapped him, lifted his head. He had green eyes, beautiful green eyes.

Dean smiled when he finally got to look into those intense blue eyes that he had only ever glimpsed from a distance. Castiel was finally sitting here in front of him. Blurry pictures covered the wall of the room they were in, but it was obvious who the subject was. There was a map of the town with red dots covering certain locations; the places Castiel had been. There were newspaper clippings from his academic achievements, copies of the letters he had been sent. "Hey, Cas," Dean greeted, using the nickname he had created.

Castiel looked around the room, everything finally coming into focus. His blue eyes widened as he realized what everything was. "What..." he trailed off, finally looking back at the man with shining green eyes. "Who are you?" he asked, his wrists twisting in their restraints as he tried to break free. "What do you want?"

"I've been watching you," Dean said simply, standing up to circle the chair. He allowed his hand to trail along the back of the chair before running through Castiel's dark hair. It was just as soft as Dean always thought it would be. "You're beautiful, you know," Dean said softly, looking down at the boy in the chair in front of him.

Castiel tilted his head away from the man's hand, trying to keep him in his line of sight. He'd been told by his older brothers to never turned your back on an enemy. This man was an enemy if he'd ever met one. With none of his questions answered, Castiel decided to try again. "Why were you watching me?"

"Who wouldn't watch you?" Dean countered. Unable to help himself, he leaned down just enough to lick the shell of Castiel's ear. "Delicious," he murmured. He continued his circle around the chair, keeping his eyes on the body in the chair.

Castiel shuddered as he felt the man's tongue rub over his ear. He tried to keep his eyes on the man, but his eyes kept wandering to all the things around the room. "Why are you doing this? What do you want?" he whispered.

"You," Dean answered simply, "It's always been you." He had lost track of when his obsession started. All he knew was that it never stopped growing. He wanted Castiel in every way possible and he wasn't going to stop until he got him.

"Please let me go," Castiel pleaded. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He should have listened to his parents when they told him to take those letters seriously.

"Oh, I can't do that," Dean said with a small shake of his head, "Because I am going to get what I want. But first, you have to want it too." He reached down to cup Castiel's face in his hands, thumbs stroking over firm cheekbones. "And you will." Without another word, Dean stood up and left the room, lights turning off behind him, sending the room into complete darkness as the locks clicked into place.

Castiel found himself staring into calculating green eyes. His lips parted to beg again, but then the man spoke. Castiel swallowed hard at the words. He didn't want to think about what he wanted, but Castiel was sure that he would never want it too. Not after this. Just as he was going to say this, he found himself plunged into darkness.

Dean had a plan. He would make Castiel want him. He would give the boy no choice. It was two days before he went back into the room, a bottle of water in his hands. "Hey, Cas," Dean greeted, smiling warmly, "Would you like something to drink?"

Castiel was left alone in that darkness for what felt like forever. He tried calling for the man, tried pleading with him to let him go, or to at least let him out of this room. When he finally came back, the teen had his head bent down, and he never thought he'd been so thirsty in his life. At the question, he nodded weakly.

Dean's smile only grew wider as he approached the boy. He twisted the plastic cap off the bottle and tilted Castiel's head up gently, bringing the water to his lips so he could drink. "There you go," he soothed, his voice soft and calming, "I bet you're hungry too, aren't you?"

Castiel hastily swallowed every bit of water he was being given, only thinking about the possibility of drugs after he'd drank so much. When he was asked about food, he shook his head. After two days of not eating, food had lost its appeal, dying away with the hunger pains.

"Alright, whatever you want," Dean said softly. He allowed Castiel to drink some more water before taking the bottle away and closing it up. He stepped closer to Castiel, running a hand through the boy's hair, stroking his face softly. "Beautiful," he murmured.

"Please let me go," Castiel pleaded in a whisper, tears filling his eyes. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his parents again. The man hadn't told him anything aside from the fact that he stalked him. Castiel didn't even know his name.

"You don't want me to do that," Dean said with a shake of his head, "Trust me, it's better here. It's better." Without another word, Dean left again in the same way as before, lights off and door locked. Each time he waited two days in between before going back in with sweet words and a bottle of water. After four days he did insist that Castiel eat. He couldn't have the boy starving. It was almost two weeks of this now as Dean entered the room again.

Castiel didn't know how long he stayed in the dark room filled with nothing but him. Each time he begged to be let go, and each time the man denied his offer. The teen tried to get the man to tell him anything about the outside world, but every time the man would deny him any information. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Castiel blinked as the harsh lights flicked on again. "What's your name?" he asked softly.

"Dean," he said quietly, giving Castiel the first direct answer since he had brought him. Everything was going perfectly. To anyone else, it would seem like Castiel was exactly the same, but Dean could see the little nuances of him wearing down. "You want something to drink, Cas baby?"

"Yes please," he answered. Normally, he would protest the nickname, but he was too tired now, and it never got him anywhere. When Dean opened the bottle, Castiel swallowed every drop. He tried to think of another question Dean would answer. "How long have I been here?"

"You don't worry about that," Dean said with a small smile, running a hand through Castiel's hair like he always did. He circled around Castiel's chair, leaning down until his lips brushed against the boy's ear. "They stopped looking for you," he whispered, his tongue darting out briefly, "You're all mine." He left immediately after, content to wait out the next two days.

Castiel stiffened when Dean said no one was looking for him anymore. Of course, he left right after that. "Liar!" Castiel screamed after him, yelling into the dark. He continued to scream and yell at Dean, telling him that his brothers would kill him, that the police would find him...hours later, he was finally silent, his voice gone as he sobbed brokenly. "I just want to go home," he whispered.

Dean listened at the door with a smile. That would be the final piece. For the next three weeks, Dean was in and out with no words, giving Castiel his water. It was the middle of the third week when he finally spoke again. "Hey, Cas baby," Dean said.

Castiel nearly sobbed in relief when Dean finally spoke to him. Going so long without hearing anyone else, only listening to his own voice, made him nearly go insane. Dean's refusal to speak no matter how much he begged made him to. "Hello Dean," he returned, voice gruff with disuse.

Dean allowed Castiel to drink with a wide smile before pulling the bottle away as to not overwhelm him. "How have you been doing, Cas?" he asked softly, running his hands through Castiel's now dirty hair.

Castiel's expression faltered a bit at that. How was he? He was miserable. He'd been tied to this chair for weeks, and he felt like he could use a shower and a shave. Still, Now that Dean was talking, he didn't want him to stop. "Not well," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry baby," Dean said, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of his head, "You'd like to move around a bit, wouldn't you?" He brought the water bottle to the boy's lips again, letting him finish the rest of it. "How about I let you out and get you to a bathroom?" Dean moved around to the back and undid the restraints around Castiel's hands before moving to the ones at his feet. "Sorry for this," he said quietly before tossing a sack over Castiel's head for good measure. He helped the boy stand and leading him out of the room. He brought Castiel into a small bathroom, well-lit, but no windows and only one door. "Here you go, baby," he said, taking the sack off his head.

Castiel nodded in answer to both questions. He drank the rest of the water, and he was glad he was finally being allowed to move around. Dean had to half carry him to the bathroom, because his legs were so weak from disuse. He blinked at the bright lighting, looking around the bathroom. "Um..." he began, turning to look at Dean. "C-Can I clean myself...please?" he just wanted to shower and shave. He wanted to feel clean. Maybe the water would help him think.

"Of course you can, Cas," Dean said with a smile, "I'll even leave you to do it while I get towels." He kissed the top of Castiel's head again, stroking his face before turning to leave the room and lock the door.

Castiel watched Dean go. He poked around and found everything he needed and took his time washing his hair and scrubbing his skin. He tried to think of what Dean wanted, and why he'd kept him locked up in the dark for so long, but every question had no sure answer, leading him in circles. The teen took his time shaving, though he kept his eye on the door, knowing that dean would be back any moment.

Dean took his time with the towels, knowing that Castiel would probably want plenty of time to shower off. It'd been over a month since he last had the chance. He returned twenty minutes later with new clothes and soft towels. He smiled when he saw Castiel in the midst of shaving. "Gorgeous," he murmured, "You're perfect."

Castiel jumped and whirled around, looking at Dean with wide eyes. He blushed hard and tried to cover up. Though it was pretty useless, because he still had a little bit left to shave and he couldn't just leave it. He frowned, finding himself stuck.

"Look at how you flush, baby," Dean said with a wide smile, closing the toilet and placing the things he'd brought in on top, "Let me finish up for you." He slowly took the razor from Castiel's hand and gently grabbed the boy's chin. He tilted Castiel's face so he could finish getting ride of the rest of his stubble.

Castiel was partially afraid Dean would cut his throat, instead, the man seemed content to simply finish shaving him. The teen avoided Dean's eyes, too embarrassed at his nakedness to meet the man's vivid green eyes.

Dean finished off the rest of the shaving before rinsing Castiel's face off and patting it down with a towel. He put it down on the sink, bringing his hand up to stroke Castiel's clean shaven face. "Beautiful," he said, leaning forward just enough to place a kiss at the corner of the boy's mouth. "There's clothes on the toilet," he murmured, lips brushing skin. Moments later, he was gone, locking the door behind him to allow Castiel to get dressed.

Castiel finally let out a breath when Dean locked the door. He looked at the clothes and quickly pulled them on. They were clean, and that was all that really mattered to him. When he was finished, he tried to comb his hair into some semblance of order but eventually giving up. Why does it matter? It wasn't as though he was seeing anyone, and besides, it never fixed right anyway.

Dean came back about ten minutes later and opened the door, taking in the sight of Castiel in his clothes. "You don't want to go back to that room, do you baby?" he asked quietly, coming into the bathroom, running his hand through Castiel's clean hair.

Castiel shook his head quickly. "No, please. I don't want to go back Dean," he pleaded. He'd do nearly anything to avoid going back to that room, only seeing to eat and drink, and when he did see, only seeing evidence of Dean's obsession.

"I know, Cas. I know," Dean said soothingly, "There's plenty of space in my room. Books, a television, nice bed. We can share it, if you're good." Everything had gone exactly like he knew it would. Castiel's dependence on him for even a sliver of luxury.

Castiel didn't want to share with Dean. He honestly wanted to be as far from Dean as possible, because he was afraid of the man...but Dean was the only one he had, the only one that could give him things. "I'll be good," he promised softly.

"There's my baby," Dean said, trailing his fingers along the curve of Castiel's jaw. He smiled briefly before placing the sack back over Castiel's head. He couldn't have him knowing how to get anywhere. Just like he did on the way to the bathroom, he walked him in circles around the bunker, turning down incorrect hallways purposely until he eventually got to his bedroom. It was the largest in the space with a heavy door that locked. He made sure it was secure before taking the sack from Castiel's head. The windows had thick bars over them, for security, but they were still windows looking out on the woods.

Castiel didn't like the sack over his head. He hated that Dean made him wear it. He'd tried to count how many steps he was taking, but soon realized that it was useless because Dean was leading him everywhere. It was disorienting and confusing. when the sack was finally removed, Castiel looked around the room. The window gave him small hope, but then he saw the bars and the scenery outside. Woods...they had to be far from his home. "It's very nice," he said after a moment.

"You can use whatever you like inside," Dean said, "There's a bathroom through there so you won't need to leave. I'll bring you food." He couldn't stop himself from stepping forward and placing a soft kiss on the back of Castiel's neck before stepping away again. Everything was going perfectly according to plan. There was a television, but all of the news channels were blocked. There was a laptop with no Internet connection. Books and board games as well, but no telephone. Enough to keep him busy but nothing to let him connect to anyone but Dean.

Castiel stiffened when he felt the press at Dean's lips on his neck. He didn't say anything for a few long moments, trying to think of something to say as he took everything in. No phone. A laptop, but probably no Internet. The TV, but Dean was smart enough to block anything helpful. Finally deciding on a plan of attack, he swallowed hard and turned to face Dean. "C-Could we maybe just talk?" he asked.

"Anything you want, baby," Dean lied. Sure, they could talk, but Dean knew better than to actually tell the boy anything. He had been planning this for almost two years, and nothing was going to make him slip up. Not when he finally had Castiel all to himself.

Castiel found that hard to believe, but he nodded anyway. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he looked up at Dean. "I was wondering when you first saw me," he began, starting on something he thought to be easy. Something Dean would maybe want to talk about.

Now this was a dangerous subject. If he told too much and Castiel ever got out, there could be enough to track Dean down again and put him away where he would never get to see those blue eyes again. "I'd say about four and a half years ago," he finally answered, silently refusing to get into specifics.

"O-Oh," Castiel said, looking down at the blanket and picking at an invisible thread. Thirteen. He'd been thirteen years old when Dean first saw him. Electing to think about that later, he looked up again and tried to make it look as though it hadn't bothered him. "How old are you?"

"Age ain't nothing but a number, baby," Dean said with a smile, evading the question. Age was definitely something they could use to track him. It was bad enough that he'd told Castiel his first name and let him see his face, but he couldn't help himself.

This wasn't helping his at all. Castiel lifted his legs up and tucked his knees into his chest, resting his chin on his knees. "will you tell me anything?" he asked softly.

"Nothing traceable," Dean said honestly, "I have to take precautions. What if I lose you, baby? I can't let myself get locked up where I can't see you." He had no intention of letting Castiel go, but accidents happened.

"So you get to know everything about me and I don't know anything about you? That doesn't seem very fair," Castiel replied quietly. His fists clenched at the hated nickname but he said nothing.

"Life isn't always fair, Cas," Dean answered, a dark look coming over his face for a moment as he zoned out, remembering things from his own childhood that could be considered 'not fair'. He snapped back into reality and gave Castiel a smile, "Just like it wasn't fair when Balthazar stood you up because Crowley decided to be nice for another week."

"H-How do you..." Castiel shut his mouth and looked down again. Of course Dean knew about that. Castiel had seen the pictures. He knew that the man had been stalking him. "That wasn't...that's not the same. If...if you want to keep me here, we should get to know each other. You know everything about me yet I know nothing about you."

"You know my name, and what I look like," Dean answered easily, moving to cross the room and change out of his clothes into something more comfortable to relax in, "I wish I could tell you more, baby, but you have to understand why I can't. I can't lose you."

Castiel clenched his jaw and stared at the floor. he felt like a child, silently seething while an adult denied him what he wanted, but he didn't have any recourse action. He couldn't do anything else without risking Dean's temper.

He hated the frown on Castiel's face. The boy was beautiful when he smiled and laughed, but he hadn't done any of that for Dean. "How about I make you a deal?" he said after he'd changed, coming to sit next to Castiel, their thighs touching, "Every time you're good, I'll tell you something." It was an extremely dangerous game Dean was playing, but he wanted to make the boy happy.

Castiel looked up at the offer of a deal. He wanted to know more, and the more he knew, the better chance he had of getting free. He just, well...he didn't know what being good meant. "What do you mean by being good?" Castiel asked softly.

"All you have to do is listen," Dean said simply. He would start off small of course. Requesting the boy to read a book or play a card game, cultivating a friendship. Then he would move on to what he truly wanted.

Castiel knew that by doing this, he was playing with fire. There was no doubt in his mind now what it was Dean wanted, and judging by what he'd done so far, he'd do anything to get it. Still, Castiel had no choice but to play along. "Alright."

"Fact number one," Dean said with a smile to prove he was serious, "My favorite food is pie. Now, let's watch a movie." He gestured an arm towards the array of DVDs, indicating to Castiel that he got to choose.

Castiel wanted to protest that he didn't even ask that information, but he shut his mouth. Pestering Dean would lead him nowhere. he slid from the bed and scanned over the movies, not recognizing any of the titles. Still, he picked a random one and handed it to Dean.

"Sorry I don't have any of your favorites," Dean said as he moved to put the DVD in, "Buying them all at once would have seemed suspicious. Besides, I haven't seen these either. I wanted us to have something together." He started up the movie before climbing onto the bed and getting comfortable resting against the headboard. He patted the spot next to him, waiting for Castiel to join.

Castiel considered the spot before hesitantly climbing in next to Dean. He wanted information, and in order to get it he need to behave and listen to dean's orders. He was afraid of what that would eventually amount to.

Dean was content to simply have them sitting next to each other. He didn't need more than that. For now. Like he said on that very first day, Castiel would want it too. Dean was going to make sure of it. This went on for about a week or so. Little bonding activities. Dean gave a fact for each one Castiel agreed to and successfully completed. Just little things like his least favorite subjects in school, or the first time he rebuilt an engine on his own. He knew it was nothing Castiel wanted to know, but the big ticket items required big ticket obedience.

Castiel went through another week with Dean. He did everything Dean told him to, though he still wasn't getting the type of information he wanted. It became a routine almost, doing everything Dean wanted without questions. It was only little things anyway, but Castiel knew there would come a day when Dean would ask for more, and then he would get the information he really wanted.

Dean knew he should be patient, but it was getting difficult. Castiel was right here with him, finally. His to hold and to touch. Yet he was waiting. He wanted Castiel desperately but still felt weeks away from really getting him. Maybe he should have held out in the first stage longer before moving to stage two. It was too late for that now and Dean was contemplating his next move.

Castiel sat on the bed he and Dean shared, reading a book that dean had given him. Normally, Vonnegut wasn't someone he would normally read, but Dean had told him to so he did, and as his reward he learned that Dean reverently referred to his car as 'Baby'. Now the man was sitting in a chair, staring out the barred window. The teen was nervous about the pensive look on his face.

Castiel had been really good all week, not even hesitating at all when Dean told him to do anything anymore. Maybe Dean should ease him into it. "Cas baby," he suddenly called out, not moving his gaze from where it stared out the window, "C'mere angel."

Angel. Another nickname that made Castiel's skin crawl. Of course Dean would know that he was named after an angel. Still, he knew not to disobey a direct order and marked his page before sliding off the bed and walking toward Dean.

"Sit right here for me," Dean said, patting his lap as he turned to look at Castiel, "Facing me." He wanted to see how much hesitation there still was in the boy's movements at the request to get so close.

Castiel looked down at Dean's lap before his blue eyes flicked back up to Dean's own. he'd known that this was where the orders were headed, but now that he was facing it...it was much more daunting than he thought. Still, after a few moments and minimal shaking, he climbed into Dean's lap as requested.

There was visible pause. Dean could see it on Castiel's face along with the way his hands trembled. "There's my good angel," Dean murmured, eyes skating over Castiel's body, "Go finish your book." He knew this would probably be confusing for the boy, but his hesitation made Dean want to wait just a little bit longer. The next week continued similarly to the first, those this time Dean introduced a lot more casual touching. In an almost identical fashion to the previous time, Dean called Castiel over the next week and gave him the same command to see the difference.

It was only after Dean dismissed him that Castiel knew he was being tested. He nodded and went back to reading. The next week was filled with Dean touching him more, though nothing too far yet. eventually, Castiel got used to it and he didn't tense up anymore. When Dean asked him to climb into his lap again, this time the teen did it without hesitation, though he still felt unease in his stomach. He didn't like where this was going.

Dean smiled and he let his hands come to rest on Castiel's thighs. "Now if you listen here, I'll give you something big," he said softly. He was saving his last name, how long Castiel had been gone, and their location for after everything else, but he could throw Castiel a bit of a bone for his first step. "Lean down for me," he whispered, needing Castiel's face closer to his own.

Castiel only waited a beat before leaning down and doing as he was told. He knew what was probably coming next, and he'd been mentally preparing himself for it over the past week. Dean didn't bother hiding what he wanted, and Castiel knew he would have to do it if he had any hope of getting out of here.

Dean brought up a hand to cup the back of Castiel's head and didn't hesitate for a second to press their lips together. He had waited eternities for this moment and wasted no time in deepening the kiss. The hand on Castiel's thigh dug into the meat of his leg as he devoured the other boy. His hand was firm on the back of Castiel's head, keeping him in place. He didn't know how long they kissed for, but eventually he pulled away. "I'm twenty four," he murmured against Castiel's lips, tongue darting out to taste them once more before he let the boy go.

As far as first kisses went, this one left much to be desired. It was invasive and rough, Dean taking what he wanted without a thought to Castiel's feelings on the matter. Still, Castiel let Dean do what he wanted without protest. He was sure he would have bruises from Dean's grip on his leg, but Castiel didn't dare complain. The man's hands were strong and unyielding. Those hands could probably take him apart. When Dean pulled away and told him how old he was, the teenager blinked. Twenty-four. They were seven years apart. So four years ago...Castiel was thirteen and Dean was twenty. The knowledge made him feel sick.

The following weak went on much like the first two, though this time, Dean began introducing casual kisses as well. On Castiel's head, his neck, his jaw, his lips. Anywhere Dean felt like kissing. Each one, however, did make his resolve crumble just a little bit more until finally, there was nothing left. This was about two weeks after their first kiss. Dean was sitting on the bed, reading a magazine, when he suddenly tossed it away. "C'mere baby," he said. He didn't even bother using Castiel's name anymore. Just little pet names that made the boy his.

There was a system to Dean's madness. Castiel was slowly figuring it out. Once he introduced something new, everything like it was free game and wouldn't earn him any information. So it was in this way that he was meant to endure more kisses. He knew then, that things would escalate, and the teen was dreading it. He was playing solitaire on the computer when Dean finally decided enough was enough. /Castiel/, he wanted to shout. /My name is Castiel./ Instead of speaking, he closed the laptop and approached Dean.

"Strip," Dean said with a jerk of his head, trying to keep the tone of his voice even and smooth despite the impatience he was suddenly feeling, "Then lay down." He had waited long enough. Castiel had to want it by now. He had to. Dean had calculated everything perfectly. He had to. Everything made sense in his mind.

Castiel hadn't thought things would escalate so quickly. He thought that Dean would have given him a little more time before moving onto this. He froze, staring at Dean with an openly frightened expression. Telling himself he had to, Castiel used shaking hands to strip.

Dean waited until Castiel was lying down before stripping down himself. "You've been here with me for 9 weeks," he said roughly. He gave no time for Castiel to process this knowledge before he was lying down on top of him, covering the boy with his body as he swallowed him in a kiss.

Castiel opened his mouth in shock, or maybe to tell Dean to wait, when the man mauled his mouth. Dean bore his entire weight on his body, pinning him in place without hope for escape. Needing to breathe, he turned his head to the side, eyes clenched shut as he panted. "Dean..."

Dean took it in stride, simply moving down to suck harsh marks into the skin of Castiel's neck, his shoulders, his collarbone, anything he could reach. He completely ignored the boy's words, only registering that he'd said his name.

Castiel flinched and tried to shift, tried to move away from the man above him. He didn't want this. He knew he ad to do it but he didn't think he could. "Dean please," he whimpered, praying Dean would listen to him, just this once.

"What?" Dean snapped, his voice low and gravelly, almost like a growl. He had waited so long to taste this skin, to touch this perfect body and now it was here in front of him. He ran his hands down Castiel's sides, dragging his nails at some points.

Castiel bit down hard on his lower lip, tears in his eyes. He took a shaky breath and shook his head. He had to do this. He had to give Dean what he wanted so he could know what was going on. "N-Never mind," he mumbled.

Dean didn't waste time with responding, choosing instead to complete his trail of harsh kisses down Castiel's body, watching as the spots reddened, promises of future bruises. He himself was already almost achingly hard. He wanted Castiel to be the same. He took the boy's length into his mouth, something he had dreamed about for years.

Castiel watched Dean moved down his body, the sickness in his stomach growing the lower he went. When he felt wet heat wrap around him, his body jerked of its own accord. He felt sick. He couldn't breathe. He felt as though he would throw up. Body tense, Castiel gripped the sheets under him and tried to ignore what dean was doing.

If there was one thing Dean believed himself to be good at, it was pleasuring others. For Castiel, he pulled out all the tricks in the bag, everything he could to get Castiel's body to respond. He already had the next to information points planned in his head and though this wasn't one of them, they would never get there if Castiel didn't get hard.

When Dean didn't give up, Castiel figured out that he had to let himself at least get hard. trying to push back the panic and fear, he focused on the movement of Dean's tongue, on the suction of his lips. Eventually, he did get hard, though the fear still lurked beneath.

Dean pulled off with a pop, murmuring praise and pet names, running has hands along Castiel's body. He bit a trail back up, taking the boy's lips in a bruising kiss while one of his hands went off the bed, searching for lube in the bedside table. He pulled away when he found it, uncapping it to lather his fingers. "Pull your legs up," he commanded breathlessly, pupils lust-blown, eyes fiery.

Castiel lifted his legs up as ordered, knowing what was about to happen and hating everything about it. It took everything he had to stifle his sobs and force his tears away. He knew better than to say anything though. He knew better, because after this he would be rewarded. Dean would tell him everything he'd been holding out on. All he had to do was endure.

Dean tried to slow himself down and stretch Castiel properly, and he did for a while. He made sure to stroke him and keep him hard, all while muttering sweet nothings in his ear. When he finally had three fingers in for a little while, he pulled them out and lubed himself up. As slowly as he could manage, he pushed in, waiting until he bottomed out to brush his lips against Castiel's ear. "My last name is Winchester," he murmured before he began fucking into the boy below him.

Dean Winchester. Now Castiel had a name. He kept chanting what little information he had on the man over and over in his mind. The mantra focused him, kept him in the present while keeping him detached. /Dean Winchester. Twenty-four-years-old. He's been with Dean for nine weeks. Nine weeks is about two months. He's missed a lot of school. His name was Dean Winchester. He had green eyes, freckles, light brown hair, and a broad frame./

Dean continued with enthusiasm, finally having what he'd waited so long for. It was everything that he thought it would be. After what seemed like a blissful eternity, Dean felt himself approaching the edge, however he wasn't going to come first. "Come," he commanded, looking down at Castiel, "Come for me angel. Be a good boy, baby, and come. Now."

At the sound of Dean's voice, Castiel dragged himself back to the present. He looked up at Dean, blinking a few times and processing his new order. The teen focused on what Dean was doing, losing himself in the sensations and momentarily forgetting his terror. He came, back arching off the bed and a small cry on his lips as Dean continued to fuck into him.

Dean came moments after Castiel did, still pushing into him with shallow thrusts. "Good boy," he murmured as he slumped down on top of him, "What a good, perfect, beautiful angel. So good for me, baby." It took him a moment to get his breath back, still staying close to Castiel. After a good ten minutes, he pulled out and rolled off of him. "We're in Kansas," he said, chest still heaving a bit, "Smack-dab in the middle. Lebanon."

"Kansas?!" Castiel couldn't help but gape. "What...how do you know me if you're from Kansas?" he hadn't done that, hadn't asked questions in a while, but he thought that maybe Dean would be a bit more lenient because of what they'd just done.

"Just because that's where we are, doesn't mean it's where I've spent my life," Dean answer simply, not at all planning on elaborating on his childhood and first steps into adulthood. That would be the last bit Castiel got unless he listened again. Of course, there wasn't much more for Dean to tell him, but he knew that now that they had done it, Castiel would want to again. It followed his calculations.

Castiel rolled onto his side, facing away from Dean. "Can I please go shower?" he mumbled, wanting nothing more than to scrub his skin. yes, it was cliché, but he needed time alone. He needed time to think, and to attempt to wash away the evidence of what Dean had done.

"Of course, baby," Dean said, slowly slipping into a post coital haze as his eyes drifted shut. He would want to shower too if he had come all over him from time well spent.

Castiel quickly moved from the bed and went into the bathroom. He locked the door, though he knew Dean had the key to get in if he really wanted to. He turned the shower on scalding, then stepped under it. It was only when he was under the spray that he allowed himself to sob quietly. How had this become his life?

Things went on like that for another two months, though now Dean allowed Castiel to ask the questions that he wanted answered after they had sex, but only after. Dean tried to keep it limited to maybe three times a week, not wanting to give Castiel too much information.

Castiel rolled onto his stomach, wanting to keeping his ass from experiencing any more pain. He looked over at Dean, who was always happy and sated after sex. He'd been saving one of the more important questions for when he had enough courage. Now was that time. "When did you first see me?" he asked.

"I told you. Almost four and a half years ago. Getting on five now," Dean said with a small sigh of happiness, "You were in the corner store with your friends. Had on a white graphic tee, general pattern not a logo, and dark wash boy jeans. Blue Nikes on your feet. A green camo backpack. It was your eyes that caught me. I never forgot them and so I found them again."

Castiel was about to protest that he didn't mean the time when Dean elaborated. It was...frightening, hearing all the little details Dean had memorized. "I was only thirteen," Castile whispered. "Didn't that bother you?" Obviously not, if the present was anything to go by.

"Age ain't nothing but a number," Dean said, repeating his sentiment from when they first moved into the room, "Someone taught me that a long time ago."

Castiel didn't agree with that but he knew better than to push. "Why did you decide to do this?" he asked, nodding to their surroundings.

"Because they didn't deserve you," Dean answered, turning to fix Castiel with a serious look as if that was the obvious answer and it was stupid that the boy didn't already know that.

"And you do?" Castiel presented the question quietly, with his eyes lowered onto the bed.

"Of course," Dean said seriously, "I know everything about you. I watched you for years. I care about you deeply. And now you're mine."

"You lock me away," the teen went on in his quiet tone. "You keep me all to yourself...do you think I'm happy, living like that?"

"I have to protect you from them," Dean said, truly believing in his heart that what he was doing was a noble cause, "Of course you're happy. You have me. Go shower." The conversation was closed after that, Dean feeling like he shouldn't say anymore.

Castiel rolled off the bed and onto his feet, resisting the urge to scream at Dean. "You never ask," he muttered instead, before he continued walking toward the bathroom.

Something about the way Castiel said that made Dean snap. He was off the bed in a second, grabbing Castiel by his hair and throwing him against the nearest wall, pressing his forearm against the boy's throat. "I don't have to ask," he said slowly, voice shaking with rage, "I. Know. You."

Castiel was fed up. He was fed up with being the victim. Fed up with following every one of Dean's orders without comment. "If you knew me," he spat, though it was hard to breathe. "You'd know I hate you."

Dean's eyes went wide with anger and he pulled Castiel off the wall only to shove him back into with the force of almost all his body weight. "No," he shouted, forcing his voice to stand more confident than he was, "No you don't. I have given you everything."

"You've taken everything!" Castiel shouted in his face. His head was spinning, but he didn't care. "You've taken me from my family, my friends! You've taken my first kiss, my first time, and you have stopped taking since you brought me here!"

Dean whipped Castiel off the wall and slammed him into the ground. "No!" Dean screamed, a kick landing on Castiel's ribs before he even realized what he was doing, "No! I deserve you! I deserve this! They weren't good enough for you!" He kept on yelling and screaming those three things over and over, slowly losing steam as he grew tired and his voice lost its vehemence, his mind losing it's confidence. Eventually he sunk down onto his knees, tears leaking out of his open eyes. "I deserve this," he whispered, the statement sounding more like a question.

Castiel endured the beating curled onto his side. he didn't bother fighting, because Dean could throw him around like a rag doll without a problem. When he finally stopped shouting and crumbled to his knees, Castiel dragged himself away, propping himself up against the wall. "You could have," he whispered. "You could have talked to me and tried to get to know me, but instead you locked me up and kept me for yourself..." he wiped blood from his split brow before looking up at Dean. "And know you've beat me."

Dean looked up at Castiel, his face completely broken open, wide and vulnerable for probably the first time since he left his father. "No," he said, shaking his head slowly, tears still falling from his eyes, "No, you had to be mine. Just mine." Despite how the words should have sounded confident, they suddenly didn't, Dean's voice wavering and unsure.

"Now you've got me Dean," he whispered. "You've got me and everything you turned me into. I'm just your personal whore now. Is that what you wanted?" Castiel asked, his tone defeated. "If that's what you want then you got it, because that's all I am now."

"No," Dean said, shaking his head quickly, "No, you're not. You can't be. You love me. You have to love me. I deserve to be loved!" His voice had gotten louder and louder until he was screaming again, much more brokenly than before, desperately trying to catch the threads of his world that were unraveling around him.

Castiel looked away from the pathetic form of the man who had kept him captive. "Maybe you do," he intoned quietly. "But I don't love you." With that, he got up and went into the bathroom, shutting the door and stepping into the shower despite his injuries.

Dean raged while Castiel was showering, toppling the book case, ripping apart pillows, breaking chairs, anything he could do to vent away his anger and his pain. Nothing helped. Finally, he pulled on a random pair of pants and a shirt, his mind whirling. He didn't know what was happening anymore, what was real and what was fake. He stumbled out of the room, still screaming and wrecking things as he headed towards the first exit he could find to his car. What he didn't realize was that he had left the door to his bedroom wide open.

Castiel stayed in the bathroom until he was sure Dean was done throwing his tantrum. When he came out the room was a mess, and he had to pick his way through things to find clothes. That was when he noticed the door was open. Castiel looked around and strained his ears, trying to see if Dean was still around. The room was silent. So, he went to the door and looked out, trying to figure the way out of this place. By the looks of it, it was huge, and even if he did get outside, it was well into winter by now and he didn't have shoes. Still, he had to try, so he raced off.

Dean sped away, barely able to see through the tears that blurred his vision. The road out of the woods was winding and turning and though Dean had driven it many times, he kept forgetting, having to overcorrect with sharp turns. Castiel didn't love him. All this time, all this preparation, every step planned out and Castiel didn't love him. Dean didn't understand. He couldn't physically understand why Castiel wouldn't love him. It was impossible for him to fathom.

Castiel cursed as he turned down the wrong hallway for the fourth time. He needed to find a way out of here. He doubled back and tried the last hallway, which led him to a large, open room. The teen took a moment to gape at the size, wondering if they were underground. It looked to be some sort of bunker. he looked around, trying to find the way out.

Dean didn't see the tree. It had gotten dark and he never remember a tree being so close onto the packed dirt road. He slammed into it nose first, going extremely fast. Dean was knocked around the cabin of the car, not having put his seat belt on until his head slammed against the windshield. He slumped over the now deployed airbag, not dead but unconscious. However, he would be dead if he went without someone finding him.

Castiel finally stumbled outside. He could see a road, but no one was on it. There was only a forest path. So, wrapping his arms around himself he began to run, trying to keep warm as the cold seeped into his bones. He ran for quite a while, the icy air piercing his lungs on every inhale, when he finally came across the car. "Dean?" he mumbled, once he caught sight of the driver. Knowing he couldn't leave the man to die, no matter what he had done, Castiel carefully began to pull him away from the car and onto the path. "Dean? Dean!" he whispered, trying to wake him up and he shook with cold.

Dean remained almost stubbornly unconscious. His breathing was shallow and the few wounds he had were bleeding rather steadily. Castiel pulling him from the car had been just enough movement to make his cell phone fall from his pocket and slide across the frozen ground. He always had it on him at all times, he just never used it or turned it on despite the fact that it was always fully charged. He was afraid of being tracked.

Castiel grabbed the phone and pressed the on button, trying to make it come to life. Dean wasn't looking too well. He needed an ambulance, and Castiel needed to get out of the cold before he caught hypothermia. With trembling fingers he dialed nine-one-one and told them what happened. He gave them their location before hanging up. The teen prayed they'd get here soon. 

Dean didn't wake up as Castiel crouched on the cold floor next to him. He didn't wake up when the ambulance came screeching around the corner, sirens blaring. He didn't know that he and Castiel had been loaded in separate ambulances and that they were headed to the local hospital. He didn't know that his cover had just been irrevocably blown.

Castiel ignored the paramedics questions, asking what he was doing out there, who the man was. Later, he would play it off as shock, but in reality, he was thinking. He didn't ask about Dean, didn't tell them anything about him or the man. Instead, as he sat in his hospital room, Dean's phone in his hand, he began to search for his family, looking them up to see what they had been doing while he was gone. 

Dean was rushed into the x-ray room to check and see if his brain was swelling or bleeding. There didn't seem to be any immediate problems, so they sewed up his open wounds and got him set up in a hospital room to wait for him to wake up. He was labeled as an unknown, seeing as the boy they had found with him wasn't talking. One of the nurses went to go see him now. She knocked on the door lightly before stepping in with her clipboard. "I'm not sure of your relation to the John Doe we found you with, but he's in room 275. Not awake yet, but I figured you might want to know." She gave him a soft smile and left after that to tend to her other patients.

Castiel nodded, though he still didn't speak. He'd sorted the search by later articles, and his eyes devoured each one greedily. At first, the articles spoke of their increasing worry and the desperate search, but as he moved on to more recent ones, he began to lose hope. His family stopped looking for him. At two months they buried an empty coffin, saying they were laying their boy to rest and evidently giving up hope. At four months, Castiel read the worst thing he'd read so far. His family, in the name of healing, had adopted a little boy named Jimmy. There was a picture of them all, standing and smiling, looking happy. It was such a drastic change to what he'd seen in the pictures before, of his father looking awful and his mother wrecked. But now they...they replaced him. Tears filling his eyes, he climbed from the bed and limped into Dean's room, sitting beside the bed and resting his head and arms on the edge of the bed. Only then did he allow the tears to come. 

It took Dean just under an hour to wake up again, his body finally deciding it was ready. He almost immediately realized that he was in a hospital, recognizing that smell anywhere. He shot up almost immediately, needing to get out. That's when he saw a dark head of hair on the edge of his bed. Castiel. What was he still doing here? The last thing Dean remembered thinking was how he was going to lose the boy forever. He would get away and get back to his family, and yet here he was at Dean's hospital bed. "Cas?" he heard himself saying, the closest thing to Castiel's name that Dean had said in months.

Castiel heard Dean say his name, and that was enough of a shock for him to look up, tears staining his cheeks. "Dean," he mumbled miserably. He sniffed and raised a hand to wipe his eyes. "Th-They replaced me..." he whispered, the end dying out in a sob. "My family replaced me...they b-buried a coffin and said I was dead th-then got a new son," he stammered. His parents didn't love him. wouldn't they have kept looking? Wouldn't they have never given up? How could they replace him so easily with a child that resembled him?

Dean managed to pull Castiel up so that he could wrap his arms around the crying boy. "Shh, it's okay, Cas," he murmured softly into the boy's hair, running a soothing hand over his back, "They never deserved someone as perfect as you in their lives." He rocked them together softly like a mother rocking her baby to sleep, murmuring quiet praise into Castiel's hair. 

"They replaced me," Castiel whimpered. "They left me. They forgot about me." He mumbled them over and over through his sobs, simply letting Dean hold him. He didn't have anyone left. The teen really was all alone. No, not alone...Dean loved him. Dean, who after everything he'd said and done, still held him while he cried. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry Dean," he whispered. 

"It's alright baby," Dean said softly, holding the boy close to him, "It's all gonna be alright. We're gonna go back home and I'll give you your own room and you can go around the bunker and everything. We'll have an amazing life together and I'll always take care of you, I swear." 

Castiel really had nowhere else to go except the bunker. He couldn't go back home without disrupting his family's new life. The teen didn't really want to go back with dean, but he literally had no one else. The offers Dean was making sounded good, but his mind reminded him that he might not fulfill them. Still, it was better than living on the streets, so he nodded. 

"Everything is going to be better now," Dean promised softly. Castiel's words from earlier were still swirling around his mind. There was an extremely small possibility that Dean had calculated wrong and perhaps Castiel wasn't as happy as Dean had initially thought. His calculations could use some tweaks it seemed. Dean would fix this.

Castiel nodded and practically clung to Dean. He was weak and vulnerable right now. He needed someone, because after losing everything, he'd finally lost everyone. The teen needed something, and Dean was there. Dean had always been there.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. That was it. Pretty screwed up right? But that's why I love the omegle collaborations, especially when someone else gives the prompt. It brings me to new places and challenges me. One day I'll write a story all on my own and you guys can see what I would do by myself, but for now I'll collaborate. Hope you enjoyed it!


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